


Calamity Cuisine

by raendown



Series: Requested Works [19]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 16:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19299466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Izuna comes home to a kitchen filled with smoke and wonders, rightly, what the fuck. Since when does Tobirama cook? Since never, as it turns out, no matter how many times he continues to try.





	Calamity Cuisine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheIntellectualWeeb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIntellectualWeeb/gifts).



> A "Requested Work" for TheIntellectualWeeb! Thank you!

The first time Izuna came home to find their apartment filled with smoke he panicked, as any normal human would. He was the one with a habit of playing with fire, Tobirama usually the one to scoff and stay as far away as possible, so it seemed a logical conclusion that something had gone terribly wrong and the love of his life was in danger.

As it turned out, the only thing in any danger was his dinner.

Panic quickly gave way to amusement upon finding Tobirama standing in the middle of their kitchen with a baffled expression and both hands on his hips, glaring at the stove like it had done him a great injustice. The look was a familiar one. It was the same look he gave to all technology when it wasn’t doing what he wanted it to do. For a man with so many smarts up in his own head he did have an unfair number of troubles with anything marketed as a smart device.

“What…happened?” Izuna asked, not bothering to disguise the laughter in his voice.

“I’m not entirely sure. As far as I can tell I followed the instructions to the letter – although they weren’t as clear as I would have liked them to be.” Tobirama’s nose wrinkled with distaste.

“Oh? What was unclear? And what were you trying to make? All I can see is black smoke.”

Izuna waved one hand through the air, trying to clear a small pocket around him to breathe in, and he wondered why the smoke alarm wasn’t going off until he spotted it sitting on the counter in several pieces. That answered that question. He didn’t even need to ask why or how; he’d known his partner for long enough to guess where his logic had gone with that one.

“Kraft Dinner,” Tobirama announced, holding up a small blue cardboard box. “The instructions said to ‘stir occasionally’ but it never explains what it means by occasionally. Should I hover over the pot and stir every thirty seconds? Should I stir in three equal intervals?” Clearly frustrated, Tobirama tossed the box down and crossed his arms petulantly. “By the time I had decided what parameters to use for ‘occasionally’ the pot had begun to smoke. These things really should include more specific language.”

“Okay you know I love you. But. A child can figure out how to follow these instructions. Literally only you could mess this up.” To take the sting out of his words he clapped Tobirama on the back as he stepped past to open a few windows.

“Children cannot possibly figure this madness out.”

“They really can.” Izuna threw open every window that might be used to evict smoke and then started looking around for something to fan it all around with.

Still pouting Tobirama moved to help him. Izuna considered telling him how cute that disgruntled expression of his was but in the end he kept such observations to himself. Obviously he was already frustrated over this ridiculous little episode and there was no point in riling him up even more. No matter how curious he was about burning the noodles when obviously they would have needed water to cook in.

“How about we just order pizza for the night?” he suggested.

“I suppose so. That was not my plan but one must roll with the punches, as they say.”

“You’re talking like an old man again,” Izuna helpfully pointed out. His partner gave him a pinched look.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Better!”

The second time Izuna came home to a disaster in their apartment was less than a week later and before asking any questions he headed straight for the windows to let it all escape outside. On his way he ducked underneath the swirling black mass and spotted the new fire alarm he had just bought sitting on the counter in the same condition as the last had been – but he couldn’t find it in him to be angry. Not when Tobirama had the decency to look at least slightly apologetic.

“What did the instructions say this time?” he asked when he could breathe again. Tobirama cleared his throat but his answer still came out as an unintelligible mumble. Izuna grinned. “Sorry what was that? I didn’t catch any of that?”

“I _said_ that I forgot about the food. Did you know the oven light goes _off_ when it reaches temperature?”

“Yes. I did. Because I cook all the time.”

Tobirama sniffed. “Well…it’s a dangerous feature.”

“It alternates every minute so that you can tell it’s still at temp.”

“Ah. That is something else that I did not know. I may have gotten distracted by the new catalogue that came this morning. Do you think I could afford a new telescope? There was an ad for an incredibly powerful–”

Before he could really take off Izuna leaned over to shut him up with a kiss. “Not the time. What are you stinking up my kitchen with today?”

He got no answer but opening the oven told him all he needed to know. Well, almost all he needed to know. The blackened mess inside the foil tin could have been either a frozen lasagna or a frozen shepherd’s pie, the ones he kept in their freezer for lazy nights were about the same size, but it was hard to tell the difference after the whole thing had been burnt to charcoal.

“Must have been a riveting article you were reading,” he mused.

“Would saying sorry help?”

“Not if you don’t actually mean it.”

Tobirama nodded. “I’ll work on it. I _am_ sorry the food was ruined.”

For once living on the bad side of town came with an advantage as Izuna was able to slip on a pair of novelty singing bass oven mitts, extract the ruined meal, then carry it across the living room and toss the whole thing out the window. He paused for a moment just to hear the satisfying crash of it landing in the dumpster below before returning the mitts to their hook and turning to give Tobirama the most judgmental raised eyebrow he possibly cook.

“Why has this happened twice?” he asked. ‘You’ve never shown any interest in cooking before.”

“I wanted to cook dinner for you,” Tobirama admitted stiffly.

“So why don’t you just cook the way you always do and order Taco Bell?”

He’d never seen Tobirama puff up with so much offense before. “I will not serve you _Taco Bell_!”

Nose in the air, he spun away and stormed off to their bedroom as though he’d been greatly insulted. Izuna tilted his head curiously but decided against following the man. Something weird was obviously going on but with Tobirama it was always better to just let things happen as they would and let the man get through whatever he wanted to. It was really only safe to stop him if he was about to hurt himself.

Usually if you stopped him without a better reason he would just turn around and find a worse way to achieve whatever it was he wanted.

As evidenced when Izuna came home several days later to find what looked like the entire contents of his fridge smeared around the kitchen. Nothing had escaped the carnage. Cupboards, countertops, floors, even the ceiling had bits of vegetables clinging to the stucco he’d always meant to scrape off and repaint. At first he thought Tobirama was just _that bad_ at whatever he was doing in here but he understood the moment he took in the sight of the blender with barely a quarter inch of green mush sitting in the bottom of it. The disaster sort of painted a picture of its own from there.

“So. What’s today’s thoughts?” he called out. When Tobirama popped up from the opposite side of the counter with his face coated green it was a difficult call whether he should scream in terror or laugh under he split a seam.

“There was an accident.” Something in his partner’s tone had him narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“And then?”

“…and then I wanted to see if I could recreate the event.” Tobirama’s eyes panned upwards to the mess on the ceiling. “Our blender is much more powerful than I realized.”

Izuna pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed in deeply then breathed out slowly. “Should I ask what was supposed to be on the menu today?”

“My thought was to prepare the shakes you like to bring with you to the gym, although I wasn’t certain what recipe you use to make them. I found several online and most of them involved vegetables in a blender. Which seemed strange to me since it’s usually quite the battle convincing you to eat any vegetables but all the websites agreed.” He shrugged, the mess on his face sliding downwards like a comical theatre mask of sadness.

“Should I ask why you insist on continuing these kitchen adventure or…”

“Is there something wrong with a man trying to prepare a gift for his partner?” Tobirama frowned but his ire was exponentially less effective when hidden behind pureed vegetables. Actually in a strange way it just made him look more kissable, which was a little gross to think about.

Cleaning up the mess of blended food took three hours and Izuna refused to lift one finger to help. He did drag his favorite armchair a little closer so her could act as cheer squad and keep Tobirama from getting distracted. Only god knew what sort of oddities were going on inside his mind every time he paused in the middle of doing something and turned as though to act upon some new idea. Izuna was merciless in driving him back to his task, feeling absolutely no guilt for doing so. The mess was his fault, after all, so he should be the one to clean it.

Afterwards he gave in to Tobirama’s pouting and let the man flop over his lap while he watched TV. It wasn’t exactly cuddling by mostly people’s standards, better described as Tobirama using him for a glorified book rest, but to them it was an excellent way to spend time together while still entertained by their own interests. Just because neither of them enjoyed the same shows didn’t mean they couldn’t happily occupy the same space.

For a full week after that Izuna came home to a disaster free kitchen and he began to think that whatever madness had taken hold of his partner was finally passing over. Their evenings were quiet and the nights when he didn’t cook something for dinner he made sure to call out for delivery to arrive at the same time he knew Tobirama would be getting home, following his schedule like clockwork. It wasn’t until halfway through the second week that he discovered he had become complacent. Considering that he thought he almost deserved the shock of opening the door to find the bloody remains of an actual chicken spread out across their counter.

“Oh _god_ , Tobirama what the actual _fuck_!?” Dropping the backpack he carried his work folders in, Izuna covered his mouth with both hands and spun away to combat the bile rising up in the back of his throat.

“Fresh meat,” was Tobirama’s succinct answer.

“A little too fresh! Did you actually slaughter a fucking animal in my kitchen? What the hell!”

“You always complain the supermarket doesn’t have meat as fresh as you would like. I thought…” He trailed off as though it had only just occurred to him that there may have been a few flaws in his thought process.

Still facing away, Izuna tried not to picture more details in the single glimpse he’d managed to catch. There was absolutely no need for him to know which parts of that poor animal were where or how much blood was now contaminating his countertop. He wasn’t exactly squeamish at the sight of blood but a dismembered carcass was a little different from accidentally stabbing his hand with a mechanical pencil again.

“Either you’re going to need three bottles of bleach in there before I even _think_ of cooking anything on those countertops or you’ll just have to replace the whole thing because _oh my god_ Tobirama. Does it ever occur to you that maybe you should run these ideas by someone first to make sure they’re not crazy?”

“No,” Tobirama responded bluntly. His voice sounded like it was still coming from the same spot.

A little suspicious, Izuna felt the need to clarify, “You’re not actually still trying to chop up that poor bird are you?”

“Should I stop? It seems like such a waste now that I’ve come so far.”

It took a while to stop twitching but Izuna kept his calm by chanting how much his loved his partner over and over in his head. Without that he was sure he would have turned around, vomited, and then killed the other man. Only when he thought he could speak without screaming did he open his mouth – and then stopped.

“God, I hate it so fucking much when you win with logic,” he grumbled.

“Does that mean I may continue?”

“Yes, fuck, go ahead you psycho. It kind of would be a waste. Are you almost done or something? Can it go in the fridge after? Because I am not coming back in to that room until everything is cleaned up.” Without waiting for an answer he absconded down the hall and barricaded himself in their bedroom.

In the end he actually benefitted from this turn of events since keeping himself locked away kept him from getting distracted by Tobirama’s company as he so often did and gave him the opportunity to go over some of the reports he’d dragged home from work. It was several hours before the quiet little nest he’d made for himself was disturbed by a hesitant knock on the door and he realized that he had probably gotten more done in that short amount of time than he had all day at work. Not having to fend off constant interruptions was definitely a luxury he rarely got to experience.

“May I open the door?” Tobirama called through the wood. “I promise that I washed my hands. Twice.”

“With disinfectant?”

“Both times.”

“Yeah alright. But you better not be covered in blood!”

Tobirama was not covered in blood. He was, rather, naked from head to toe. “I guessed that any mess on my person would upset you so I threw my clothing down to the dumpster. Well, I tried. I believe it was the Lady Hyuga on the third floor who put her head out the window just in time for my bloody shirt to land on her face.”

Izuna howled with shameless laughter.

“Good! I never liked her. Her and all her family; there’s got to be a hundred Hyuga living in these apartment blocks and they’re all so stuffy.” He continued chuckling as he tried to imagine the scene she would have made.

“So you say. I also cleaned the kitchen. As instructed, I disinfected every surface twice.” There was a distinct note of pride for a job well done in Tobirama’s voice, like he expected a reward for following orders, and strangely the fact that he was standing naked without a hint of awkwardness only made it more endearing.

“Thank you,” Izuna told him. “Come here.” When he beckoned Tobirama stepped closer and bent down to receive a soft kiss as his desired reward.

When he straightened he looked back over one shoulder. “I considered trying to cook the meat myself–”

“Nope!” Izuna was up on the bed in an instant, hustling down the hall.

“I said I only considered it!” Tobirama called after him with undertones of offense.

After a quick inspection Izuna declared the kitchen clean enough, though he still had to rub everything down one more time just to make himself feel better about wiping off the blood. The meat he found tucked away in the fridge looking almost like any other store-bought cut of meat so he pulled it out and got started on a late dinner for them both. If the meat did end up tasting much better for being so fresh, well, Izuna was sure Tobirama understood the thanks he was offering when they went to bed that night.

Nearly a full month passed after that without any sort of cooking fiasco breaking up their daily routines. There were several attempts, multiple calls from Tobirama at various points during the day with strange questions that Izuna was certain would have led to certain disaster, but he was rather proud of himself for putting out any and all fires before they could really spring up.

Both of their brothers dropped by for a visit while he still had things under control and Izuna was happy to have a clean kitchen where he could whip up a meal delicious enough to impress even his cantankerous older sibling whose palette swung wildly between caviar or bust and whatever was rotting in the dumpster behind the closest fast food joint. Madara complimented him on his steaks and Izuna considered pretending that Tobirama had butchered those fresh too but decided he didn’t want to listen to the screaming.

Their family dinner was nice overall despite the two Senju brothers disappearing for nearly an hour and then reappearing by climbing in through the window. Hashirama had tears streaming down his face but he refused to say why so Izuna could only guess that he’d been terrified getting dragged up and down the fire escape. Although neither would explain where they had gone it wasn’t actually so out of the ordinary for Tobirama to get an idea in his head and drag some poor sod along by force to help him act on whatever crazy thought had occurred to him this time so Izuna let it go without thinking very much about it.

It wasn’t until another two weeks later that he realized he maybe should have thought about it a little more. Or, actually, that it was a good thing he hadn’t. Surprises were nice every once in a while as long as it didn’t involve his kitchen going up in flames again.

Walking in the front door to find a perfectly cooked and plated dinner of his favorite western meal, roast beef and mashed potatoes, definitely was not on the list of surprises he could have guessed at ahead of time. Suspicions and questions immediately rose up but he managed to keep a lid on them for the time being in favor of slipping off his shoes without looking away from the feast laid out on their kitchen table. Neither of them being very formal people, they didn’t actually use their kitchen table for eating very often. Mostly they sat on barstools and ate over the kitchen island. Today it seemed Tobirama had taken the time to clear everything off their dining table for a proper presentation, bottle of wine and all.

The image was only made more perfect when Tobirama skidded in to the room with the distinct look of someone who was hurrying to meet their cue. He was blinking wildly and his hair showed evidence of being wrestled down in to a more smooth style, though it still defied expectations by standing straight up on the man’s head. It just wouldn’t be Tobirama if he were perfectly smooth.

“Did you kidnap someone’s dinner?” Izuna asked. It was the only explanation he could think of for the appearance of such a well-cooked meal.

“No.” Shuffling a little awkwardly, Tobirama looked away with a pout. “Anija agreed to come over and cook for me since my efforts to do so on my own...were not yielding the expected results.”

“I must have just missed him in another elevator or something. Damn. This all looks amazing. I am suddenly terrified that I’ve forgotten some kind of anniversary.” Relief swept through his body when Tobirama shook his head.

Gesturing to the closest seat, Tobirama murmured that he should sit before disappearing down the hall again with a frantic light in his eyes. Only when he turned did Izuna finally look past the funny hair and the wild expression to notice that the man was _dressed up_. He could count on one hand the amount of times he had seen Tobirama wearing anything nicer than a clean t-shirt in the four years since they had met.

“What’s all this?” he asked when his partner came back in to the room.

“I was trying to be nice,” Tobirama huffed. “But I could never get it right. Dinner is- it’s tradition, I think. But Anija said that a nice meal means I should look nice and you do deserve nice things and–“

“Okay, okay, calm down. If you say ‘nice’ one more time you might accidentally crack a smile.” Izuna did just that in response to the prissy look he got.

“Just pretend I can be kind to you for one evening, if you please.”

Rather than point out that Tobirama did kind things for him all the time – in his own way, of course – Izuna shut his yap and let Tobirama pour him a glass of wine. His favorite, he noted. That was the sort of kindness he had come to expect before they even started dating. Tobirama was the sort of man who watched and learned and remembered, then he put those observations to good use by ordering Izuna’s favorite foods, taking him to movies with his favorite actors, switching brands when their new laundry detergent started leaving rashes on his delicate skin. His love was shown in little actions.

After the wine was poured Tobirama grabbed a paper napkin off the kitchen counter and brought it over, unfolding the one ply sheet and shaking it in the air like it was a proper fancy cloth napkin. Izuna stopped him before he could try and lay it out across any laps.

“Why don’t you just sit down and eat instead of trying to worry about every single detail? This is already amazing. Consider me impressed. Now eat before your food gets cold.” Izuna watched with amusement as his partner wrestled with the concept of not attending to every last detail himself.

“Fine,” he mumbled at last.

The food was delicious, though that was little surprise if Hashirama had cooked it, and the wine complimented their meal quite nicely. With the windows closed to keep the sounds of traffic muted and some kind of music playing at a low volume from their bedroom the evening actually had quite a lovely date-like atmosphere that they didn’t bother with very often as a couple.

Really the only thing that could be improved upon was Tobirama’s dinner conversation. Usually no matter where they were he could be counted on to chatter away about whatever he pleased, unbothered by the idea that someone else might overhear him and find his choice of topic offensive somehow. Now he sat ever so slightly hunched with his fork clenched tightly in one hand and most of Izuna’s attempts to start a conversation were met with distracted mutterings that didn’t quite sound the same as when he was lost inside his own head trying to work out a problem.

If Izuna didn’t know any better he would say his partner was worried about something.

“Are you alright?” he asked eventually.

“Yes, fine, all fine. It’s fine.” Tobirama continued to scowl down at his half-finished meal without even trying to make eye contact. Something was definitely wrong.

“Tobes–”

“Don’t call me that.”

Izuna bit his lip. “This surprise is great and all but you’re kind of worrying me. Are you sure you’re good?”

“Worrying you was not exactly what I had intended. This was supposed to be a nice evening for you. I can be nice!” Tobirama slid his own plate away from himself a stood up to pace an anxious circle around the table.

“Yes, I know you can be.”

“Well good. When you love someone you’re supposed to do nice things for them. Every magazine and article I’ve read says that and Anija agrees so I trust the majority consensus.” As he spoke he made another circuit around the table with his brows drawn together in an expression that could almost be mistaken for deep concentration by anyone who didn’t know him well.

Scooting his chair back, Izuna stood up as well to stop the other man in his tracks. “Hey. Stop. Tell me what’s wrong. You’re being…not you.”

“You just agreed that I can be nice, I’m doing a nice thing!”

“Uh-huh and you’re also rambling on about it when usually you like it better if I don’t mention anything. Please tell me what’s actually going on.” Izuna lifted his eyebrows and caught Tobirama’s eyes. They stared each other down until Tobirama wrinkled his nose and looked away.

Well versed in the surprising unpredictability of a man so set in his own patterns and routines, Izuna hadn’t even bothered trying to guess at the reason behind his partner’s behavior, not after how many times he’d been wildly wrong before. Conclusions he thought of as completely logical could usually be torn apart in three sentences or less by Tobirama’s oversized brain. So right now he just needed the idiot to talk; the suspense was killing him.

Still, he tried to be patient as Tobirama’s eyes darted everywhere else in the room but at him until finally he dug around in the pocket of his dark slacks. The theme of black on black he had chosen for his outfit did absolute wonders to make the rest of him pop. Izuna couldn’t wait to peel it all off him later.

“Anjia said if I wanted to give this to you then I should probably butter you up first. I think he was making fun of me but I wasn’t sure so I thought it was better to be safe than sorry.” Tobirama nodded as though agreeing with his own logic. Then he opened his hand and all the air rushed out of Izuna’s lungs at once.

The ring was modest and slim, clearly chosen to look more natural on Izuna’s smaller fingers. With a band of white gold and a simple braided engraving around the center it could not have screamed ‘engagement ring’ any louder unless someone glued a massive diamond to the top of it. Izuna couldn’t stop staring. And because he couldn’t stop staring he also couldn’t help but notice the very fine trembling in the hand hovering between them.

“I think you’re supposed to ask a question when you give me that,” he breathed.

“Right, yes, you are correct.” Tobirama cleared his throat and shuffled a step closer. “Will- is there a specific way I’m meant to phrase this? I think I should have done a little more research first.”

“Will you marry me?”

Both of them stared at each other in surprise after Izuna blurted out the question on both of their minds. The silence was only broken when Tobirama gave a little mewl of discontent.

“I was supposed to ask you that!”

“Well you were taking too long. So…answer me.”

“Of course I wish to marry you, I was going to-mph!” Before he could go off on a tangent about who should ask or answer Izuna cut him off again by throwing himself at the other man, arms wound tight over broad shoulders so he could drag himself up to Tobirama’s height for a deep kiss.

Hands settled on his hips to pull him in closer and Izuna was grateful when Tobirama bent down a little so he could lower himself from the tips of his toes. Under no circumstances was he willing to break their kiss yet. Not with so much unadulterated joy thundering against the inside of his rib cage. With no other way to express himself he held on tighter and kissed with everything he knew he wouldn’t find the words to say, hardly able to breath past his emotions and loving every minute of it.

It wasn’t until Tobirama pulled away to blink at him with concern that he realized he was tearing up.

“My brother can _never_ know that I cried,” he demanded. Tobirama nodded solemnly in return.

“Understandable.”

“I love you.”

“Yes, I gathered that.”

Laughing wetly, Izuna let his head drop against the middle of Tobirama’s chest. “Jerk. You’re supposed to say it back.”

“Ah. I love you too, of course.”

That was all he needed. Izuna closed his eyes and clenched his fingers, picturing what it would look like when Tobirama slid the ring on to his left hand. Not with a hundred guesses would he have thought this was the reason behind so many disasters in his kitchen.

Worth it, he decided. Tobirama would always be worth it.


End file.
